Pain Reliever
by ADAMalchemist
Summary: "Why should I tell you anything?" I asked. "There's got to be people in here who are in worse pain then I am." "Pain is pain, Ed. It's the same to us all. And nobody should have to feel it." Everything goes downhill after his mother's death. ModernAU. TRIGGER WARNING.


**A/N: Back in 2009 when I was 12-13, I was going through some rough stuff. Bullying, abuse, and more. My only escape was Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood and everything else that had to do with FMA. When I was down, and even now still, the Elrics seemed to cheer me up. Then I wondered, what would happen if I did certain things? This was my first fanfic. Edited slightly, of course. TRIGGER WARNING. DRUG ABUSE, RAPE, ALCOHOL ABUSE, AND SELF HARM WARNING. VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.**

* * *

It hurt.

No.

It didn't hurt.

That was an understatement.

It _stung_.

Everything. Everything just _stung_. Sharp stinging. It stung worse then bees, or thorns, or even lemon juice and salt rubbed into a wound. Yes…yes, it was worse then all those. If I could, I would have stabbed at the center of this sensation. But, there was no telling where exactly it came from.

My mind seemed to drift off and all I could think about was the pain. Voices didn't even reach my ears as I sat staring at the bed that held my mother's body. I felt my stomach turn and flip as all of Resembool stepped up to the bedside to pay their respects. One by one, they whispered, set a flower on her chest, cry, and leave. Beside me, I could feel my younger brother shaking, taking in sharp gasps of air through his teeth as he silently cried. Just knowing this made my eyes sting and my stomach flop more. I placed my hand over it to try to keep it steady. No luck. As soon as I heard the next woman sob, I allowed my stomach to spew it's contents out my mouth and onto the floor. Right away, I felt my knees wobble and give out from under me.

The stinging. Ugh, the stinging was now effecting my throat. And it fucking _hurt_.

A few people ran over and quickly pulled me out of the room to help wash me up. Thankfully, only a few drops of my breakfast landed on my suit. Nothing a little water could fix.

The woman that brought me into the bathroom sniffled as she tried to contain herself. I watched as she dabbed a wet cloth over the infected areas and couldn't help but remember her.

She was a nice lady. We've gone to visit her a few times, mostly in the summer. She bought my mother's herbs and made medicine. Of course, she saved the best for us. Every time we walked into her shop, she gave my brother and I a treat. Sometimes, it was lollipops or ice cream. But other times, special times, it was cupcakes or hot chocolate. She always baked us large cupcakes for our birthdays, decorating them with our favorite color frosting and dinosaur sprinkles. It made me frown at the fact that I could remember all that but forget her name.

While she helped clean me, I saw her lips moving but heard no sound. But, my brain seemed to know what she was saying and told my head to nod. She smiled and took my hand, walking me back to the room. My brother ran over to me, his face filled with worry. I simply stared back and felt my lips began to move. It felt like I was in a silent movie.

He sighed and nodded, taking his place once more. Frowning, I realized I couldn't remember anyone's name. I knew them for sure but, yet, I couldn't think of what they called themselves. Somewhere in a book, I read about something like this. I was simply just in shock. A wave of slight relief flooded me as I took my place again.

Slowly, as I watched events take place in front of me, my hearing came back. It was mostly just voices of 'I'm sorry' and 'if you need anything, let me know'. I would nod and give them my thanks. By the time I actually gained control, the room was nearly empty. One last couple said goodbye to my mother and walked up to us, saying the usually things. We both nodded and said our thanks, watching as they left.

"Edward, Alphonse." Were those our names? Which one was mine? I couldn't remember.

An elderly lady walked up to us, a smoking pipe hanging from her pocket. My brother smiled softly, his eyes puffy and red from crying.

"Granny Pinako." He said, his voice horse and scratchy.

She smiled slightly and nodded, looking us both over. "It's time to go. Edward, after what happened today, make sure to go as slow as you can."

I nodded slowly, realizing now that was my name. Feeling Alphonse take my hand, my legs began walking on their own. Slowly, of course. As we walked out of the funeral parlor, I glared at the sky. The clear, blue, sunny sky. Usually, when things are sad and people die, the sky is always dark from either rain or it being night. But, no. It was sunny and happy. Was it trying to cheer us up? If it was, it wasn't working. Just made the stinging worse is what it did.

Walking around made it worse as well. All the grim faces of the people of Resembool staring at us, their voices telling us how sorry they were. It took a lot to ignore them. Each voice sent a ping, a sharp sting through my body.

When we finally arrived home, I sighed and flung my jacket onto a chair. I remember Granny Pinako chastising me for doing this, saying 'that's why we have coat closets'. But this time, I heard nothing. No smart remark, nothing. Maybe she was going easy on me. Didn't matter. I ran up to my room, threw my shoes off, and closed the door. Thankfully, Alphonse didn't run up after me and decided that I needed some time alone. Which, if he was assuming it, he was correct.

Slipping out of my shirt, tie, and pants, I climbed into bed and laid there, staring at the ceiling. My eyes stung as tears began to hang off the edge. It took my whole being to just focus on the feeling of the sheets.

They were brand new and soft, their fabric felt nice against my bare skin. The sheet felt thin against my back and the blanket was so big and fluffy, I couldn't look anywhere else but up. It felt calming, soothing even. It dulled the stinging slightly. As time passed, I watched as the light on the ceiling slowly faded, turning into a bright orange.

"Edward!" I heard Granny Pinako call. "Time for dinner!"

Sighing, I climbed out of the bed and pulled on my pajama bottoms, my t-shirt, and a pair of slippers. Half of me wanted to yell down 'no thanks, not hungry' but the other half growled in hunger. If childhood taught me anything, it was that you don't anger something that's hungry. So, I walked down the stairs and took my place at the table.

"Did you have a nice nap?" A girl across from me asked.

I remember her. We've been friends since we were born. Frowning at the fact I could remember her favorite color was purple and not her name, I shrugged. "Didn't sleep. Just laid there." I mumbled, stuffing a spoonful of stew into my mouth.

Her eyebrow raised in question as she watched. "Just lay there?" She asked. "Didn't do anything but lay there?"

Nodding, I shrugged again. "Yeah. Just thinking and the like."

"Well that's stup-"

"**Winry**! Watch your tongue!" Granny Pinako snapped, sending a glare at her granddaughter.

Winry jumped in response to her grandmother's warning and nodded, looking down at her bowl before dipping a roll in and taking a bite. "Sorry…" She mumbled toward me.

"It's alright…" I mumbled back.

The rest of dinner was silent save for the clinking of silverware hitting the bowls and the sounds of glasses being set on the table. Granny Pinako sniffled a little bit from the room being cold and looked up at me and Alphonse.

"You two are more then welcome to come live with us." She said. "You will have your own room."

I shook my head. "No. This is our house. We _aren't_ moving."

Sighing, she nodded in defeat. "Very well. I will stay here during the night when I can in case you two need anything."

Alphonse nodded, smiling softly. "Thank you." He said, his voice showing that he had, indeed, been crying again.

When we were finished, I showed Winry to her room while my brother helped Granny Pinako with the dishes. As I opened the door to my mother's old room, I felt another sting fly through my body. I let out a shaky sigh and flicked the light switch.

"Here." I said.

She didn't say anything in reply but took my hand in hers, her eyes staring into mine as if to say how sorry she was. I was honestly sick of people saying how sorry they were for me, for my brother, that my mother had died. There was no reason for them to say it. You use 'sorry' when you've done something wrong or you're looking for forgiveness. As far as I know, nobody caused my mother's death. Nobody but my 'father', Hohenheim. She died because she made herself sick with worry for him. For him. A man that vowed never to leave her, that got her pregnant, that left her to raise two children on her own. I still remember how she smiled as if nothing was wrong. Like nothing in the world could bother her. Ow…another sting.

"Are you sure it's okay for me to sleep in here?" Winry asked. "This was your mom's room. Don't you want to sleep in it?"

Sighing, I began to leave. "Why would I sleep in there? I have my own room."

Actually, I did want to sleep in there. I wanted more then anything to curl up in her sheets and take in her scent that was now starting to fade from my memory. But, I continued walking to my room and silently closed the door. Everything after that was a blur.

Everything but the stinging which lingered all night.

The next morning was slightly cold which made me curl up into my bed even more. Birds sat outside near my window. It was annoying how happy they sounded. If I could, I would grab my air soft gun and shoot away. Sadly, this was illegal. And not right at all.

Usually, I would smile at their sound and feel like everything was alright with the world. There was no illness, no war, no hate. Only a week has passed since I've noticed the grim reality of the world. There was war and there was hate. And, unfortunately, there was illness. Some, of which, we could not cure. There has to be a time we all must face this horrible reality…I just wish my time had come later.

Turning at the sound of my bedroom door opening, I saw Alphonse. Again, his face was pale and his eyes red. He cried last night.

"Brother, Granny is making breakfast. Do you want any?" He asked, a frown covering his face.

I shook my head and turned back to the window, watching the birds dance on the tree branch. "No thanks…not hungry."

Sighing, he shuffled his way over to my bedside and placed a hand on my shoulder, squeezing slightly. "Brother…" he whispered. "You need to come eat something. You can't just stay locked up in your room."

He was right. I couldn't just stay up here for the rest of my life. But, I didn't want to come down, either. With a moment of thought, I finally convinced myself to climb out, slip on my slippers, and walk downstairs with my brother. The smell of bacon, eggs, toast, and orange juice filled my nose. Normally, this would cause me to run downstairs and scarf down everything in sight. Today, though, the smells only turned my stomach. It must have shown on my face because Alphonse grabbed my hand and rubbed my back. This soothed it a little, but not enough to even think about eating.

Sitting down at the table, I watched as Winry ate. Compared to the way me and Al usually eat, she always ate politely. As if she was a princess and sat with the queen and king. Every sip she took from her glass, her pinky came out and it almost made me chuckle. When we were younger, I would always tease her for being so proper. 'We're at home not in public' I would say. 'Practice makes perfect' she would retort. There were times she would force me to dress up in my best clothes and practice proper etiquette with her. Of course, when Alphonse was brought over, he would be caught in it as well. She would try her hardest to paint his face with her mother's make up and would snuggly place a sun hat on his head. He never really seemed to mind since he was always a people pleaser, but after a while he would tug at the hat and begin to cry. Our mother would then come up, laugh at the sight, and tend to her sobbing child.

Granny Pinako walked over and placed a full plate in front of me, smiling. "Good to see you're up. Made your favorites."

I swallowed hard and looked down at my plate. "I can see…"

Oh great…here my stomach goes again.

She smiled and walked off to make herself some breakfast. By the time she was done making her own bowl of oatmeal, Al and Winry were already outside playing. I still don't understand why he was so calm about everything…maybe shock hadn't hit him yet.

"What's wrong, Ed? You haven't eaten anything?"

In reply, I turned to the side and released the stew I had eaten last night. Of course, this lead to me staying in bed for the rest of the day.

This time I slept instead of stare at the ceiling.

When I finally woke up, my room was dark. The only light came from the moon outside. Slowly, as to not upset my stomach again, I crawled out of bed and made my way down the stairs. A sweet but bitter smell entered my nose as I got near the living room, the television on low. Getting closer, I saw a man sitting on the couch.

I recognized him from the funeral. He owned the pub in town and always looked out for us. Every once in a while, he would offer Alphonse and I a beer. Mother would giggle and tell him to stop joking around, pushing us away.

"Why're you up?" He slurred, making me jump.

"I…uh…got hungry." I mumbled, looking down at my feet.

Standing up, he nodded. "Alright. I'll make you some soup. Only thing you're allowed to eat 'till you feel better. Pinako's orders."

Following him into the kitchen, I asked where she was. He began telling me that she had to go make an arm for a man coming into town and left him in charge since I wasn't feeling my best. As he made the soup, I stared at the beer bottle he placed on the counter intensely. It smelled horrid and reminded me of dark chocolate from it's sweetly bitter scent. I heard him chuckle as he watched and pushed it close to me.

"Have a sip." He said, patting me on the head as if he was a parent.

I looked up at the pub owner, wrinkling my nose. "It smells weird." I protested. Which, he replied by pushing the bottle even closer.

"You're hurting, right? This'll take bad feelins' away."

Frowning, I grabbed the bottle and took a small sip. As it traveled down my throat, I felt it burn everything it touched and I quickly began coughing. He chuckled and took the bottle, taking a sip himself. "Sucks the first time. It'll taste better if ya drink it more."

"So…like tea?" I asked, thinking back to when my mother first poured me a cup of the stuff.

He laughed and nodded, placing the bottle back in my hands. "Yeah. Like tea."

Once again, I took a sip and braced myself for the burning. He was right, though. After I finished the bottle, I didn't feel much stinging. By the time I was half way done the second bottle, my thoughts were all a blur and my throat didn't burn. That is, until I fell off the couch and vomited the drink back out.

Ugh…my throat…

* * *

Everyone cheered and confetti littered the already colorful table. I couldn't help but smile at everyone as they sang to me. When it was over, I leaned down and blew out the eleven candles that stuck to the cake. Once again, children blew noise makers and adults cheered while clapping. Granny Pinako walked over and began to cut the yellow cake. One by one, everyone took a slice.

In truth, I wasn't all that happy. The stinging only went away when I drank the beer Mason, the pub owner, offered when he watched us. But, I put on my best mask and acted as happy as ever.

It seemed to work. Everyone was falling for it, even Al.

I opened up my presents with false joy and thanked everyone. Mostly, I received science books, note books, and a few toys. As everyone began to leave, Mason walked over and placed a hand on my shoulder. Leaning down, he whispered into my ear. "When you're done here, come visit the pub." He said. "I'll give you my present then."

Nodding, I showed him to the door and watched him leave. Granny Pinako walked over and asked what that was all about. Of course, I avoided the question by simply saying that I didn't know. If she knew what was really going on, Mason would never be allowed to watch us again. Which meant more stinging. The only way the pain seemed to go away was when I would soak it with the beer he gave me. Yes, I knew drinking was bad. And yes, I am only eleven years old. But, I couldn't forget the way my mother looked at me as she passed the same way Alphonse could. I wasn't that strong yet. In a way, I needed this as an escape. There was _no way_ Granny Pinako would take this from me.

Later on that night, while the other's slept, I crawled out my window and climbed down the tree. I swore under my breath as I tried my hardest to hold on. Slipping on a small patch of ice that clung to the tree, I fell. Looking back now, I began cursing myself out for not easily sneaking out through the front door.

Luckily, there was plenty of soft snow at the bottom. The landing still managed to knock the wind out of me and forced me to lay there for a moment or two. After I finally got air back into my lungs, I stood up and began walking.

The walk was rather long, giving me time to think things over. Lately, I hadn't really been doing much thinking. Ever since that fist sip, the only thing I have been doing is drinking. Mason would stop me after about half a bottle, telling me to head up to bed or else I would become sick all over again. Every time I took the first gulp, it burned. But, it wasn't long before it would feel good and my mind would became hazy. Thinking it all over, I realized just how bad beer was for me. It wasn't good to be losing my mind every night. The stinging wasn't good either. And if I had to choose, I'd rather drink then not. Just until I found a new way to relieve the pain.

People smiled at me as I passed their stores, telling me happy birthday and some asking where I was going. I acted as if I couldn't hear them and waltzed right over to the pub. The sign said closed and confused me. Did Mason already go home? Sighing, I tried the door anyway. He must have still been inside since the door opened slowly. I smiled and walked in, looking around.

Mother always told us never to come into the pub. That it was not a place for children. But, to me, it looked like a regular restaurant. The only thing that stood out against the rest was the smell. The restaurants I've been to smelled of food, steak and mashed potatoes, cheeseburgers and fries. In here, everything smelled like beer and barbeque. I wrinkled my nose at the scent and followed the whistling that came from the back.

"Ah, Edward!" Mason said, turning to me happily. "There you are! Didn't think you'd come this late."

I shrugged and nodded, looking up at the clock. 11:31pm. No wonder I'm so tired. Yawning, I glanced up at Mason. "What's my special birthday present?"

He smiled and walked over to the refrigerator, pulling out a whole six pack of beer. "And I made ya some of my famous barbeque chicken!"

The two of us sat up at the bar, drinking and eating. Mason smiled and talked about his first drink. He was around my age when he took a can of beer from the refrigerator. Thinking it was soda, he opened it and took a sip. Oddly, it didn't seem to burn his throat and he took another right away. After twenty or so minutes, his father came into the kitchen and began screaming at him, telling him what the drink was. But, as time went on, the two became close and often drank together while fishing.

It wasn't long before my body started swaying. My mind became blank which made it hard to concentrate on certain things, simple things. Picking up a bottle was a big challenge. Every time I went to bring it to my lips, it always ended up bouncing off my cheek a few times before I got it right. Mason would start laughing at me, saying I had to much, but I would tell him that I was fine and could have another.

"Alright kid," He said. "I think it's time for you to head home."

I frowned and looked at the clock. 2:12am. Sighing, I grabbed my coat and nodded, agreeing that everyone would be up soon. He patted me on the back and saw me out. Something inside me pulled and tugged, making me worry as I began walking down the street. I didn't understand it and figured that I must have been hungry. As I patted my stomach and told it to be quiet, something warm wrapped around my arm. A low laugh played in my ears as the warm wrap tugged at my arm.

"Well, well, well…What do we have here?"

My heart jumped at the voice and I whimpered, wrapping my arms around my body as I crawled down the small alleyway.

The laugh played again as a darkened figure approached me. "What a cute, little flower you are."

"P-please, don't hurt me!" I slurred, trying to focus.

But it was hard. My mind went every which way as I felt everything happen. I tried my best to ignore everything and just allowed the figure to throw me around like a rag doll. It was clear there was no way out. The best I could do was call out for help and beg for it to stop. Every time I opened my mouth, I felt a cold blade be pressed against my neck and a harsh whisper would flow into my ear.

The pain…

It stung…

Everything…

Everything stung…

And it _hurt_.

The next thing I knew, it was morning and I was laying in the arms of the figure, the blade still at my throat. My face was freezing. Was I crying last night? I couldn't remember…

"…said they saw him walk right into your pub! People from all over are here for automail, it's dangerous to walk alone at night!"

Granny Pinako? Was she…looking for me?

"I'm sorry, alright?! He couldn't have gone far!"

Mason, too? I looked around for anything I could use to make noise. My throat hurt to much to use my voice. Ugh, he must have shoved nails down there last night. The first thing to catch my eye was an empty bottle of beer. I shook as I reached for it, quickly throwing it at the wall in front of me. As it shattered, I closed my eyes tightly and listened for their footsteps. It wasn't long before I heard them screaming and felt the man being pushed off of me.

A pair of strong arms lifted me up and held me close. I knew right away it was Mason. Opening my eyes, I looked up at him and watched him cry as he walked with me to the nearest clinic. By his side, Granny Pinako cried as well. When they did, I remembered that I did, indeed cry last night. I remembered most of what happened last night and it made my stomach turn horribly. Finally walking in, I leaned over and released what was left in my stomach. Right away, the doctors took me in.

I ignored what they were saying and focused on the ceiling above me. One word kept flying into my ear, though, and it stung every part of me.

_Rape._

I had read that somewhere in a book. And the definition kept replaying in my head over and over. My mind was somewhere else as I felt my body being scooped up and placed in a car. Usually, the vibration of the engine calmed me down and would put me to sleep. But it just made every part of me more alert.

When we pulled up to the house, Mason picked me up again and carried me to my room, laying me down. For the longest time, he stayed kneeling by my bed, holding my hand as he cried. During breaks in his sobbing, I heard him tell me how sorry he was this all happened, that he couldn't stop it. By now, I was annoyed with the word 'sorry'. He did nothing wrong to make him say it as much as he did. After a while, I closed my eyes and pretended I was asleep. When he finally noticed, he stood up, sniffled, ruffled my hair, and walked out of the room. I waited. And waited. When I heard all the bedroom doors close and no footsteps in the hallway, I got up and made my way to the bathroom. For a while, I just sat there on the shower floor and stared at my feet, the events of the night replaying in my head. A new sensation began to mix with the stinging. No matter how long I sat there, no matter how hot the water was, I still felt…dirty. Tainted. As if dirt and grim were running through my veins.

I stood up and finished my hair, turning off the water when the bubbles were gone. Grabbing a towel, I walked over to the mirror and stared at it. I didn't dry my hair or even my body. Just stood there and stared at my eyes. My filthy, piss yellow eyes. Finally, I wrapped the towel around my waist and looked down at my hands. Hands that had touched a man in such a way that they looked brown and disgusting. Yes…that's what I was. Disgusting. My body shook and my hands turned into fists. Before I knew it, the mirror shattered and my hand was covered in blood. Blood…that's it! All the dirt is in my blood!

I quickly grabbed a shard of glass and began slicing my arm open violently. Blood covered my towel and began seeping through the putty that held the floor tiles together. It felt…strangely good. Slowly, I felt clean. A smile crossed my face as tears streamed down. Yes, I was getting clean.

"Oh my god! Edward, stop!"

Looking up at the doorway, I saw Winry standing there, her eyes wide. She ran over and pulled the shard away from my hands and searched for wrappings. I watched and shook my head.

"Winry…what're you doing?" I asked, my voice horse and scratchy.

She kneeled by my side and wrapped up my wounds. Damn it, she'll put the dirt back in! "I'm helping you! Oh god, why would you do this, Ed!?" She shrieked, looking my odd face over.

I smiled and allowed more tears to flow. "I'm getting clean."

* * *

The cupcake was small and not all to extravagant. The candle that stood out was a simple blue. All in all, it was more color then I was used to at that point.

I looked up at the doctor in front of me, his onyx eyes staring into mine. He shouldn't be doing that. He'll get dirty, too.

"Now, Edward. You've been here for eleven months. Don't you want to go outside?"

No. I don't.

After all that's happened, I learned I can't trust anyone. Not even my childhood friend who I confined in. Who I trusted to keep my secret of trying to become clean. No, she ratted me out a month later. What's worse, she ratted out to my brother. The only family I had left hates me now and it's all her damn fault.

Doctor Roy Mustang sighed as he shook his head, reading over my papers. "I'm new to this game of yours. Mind telling me the rules?"

I simply stared back. He'd have to figure out the rules on his own. And, for his sake, I hope he doesn't play a bad card. Once again he sighed and blew out my candle.

"Can't have it dripping over your birthday cupcake." He said, standing up. "Why don't you just tell me what's going on in your head."

Scuffing, I looked away toward the window. Silence hung in the air and he didn't move or speak, seemingly giving me time to express everything.

"Why should I tell you anything?" I asked. "There's got to be people in here who are in worse pain then I am."

Roy walked over to my side and placed a hand on my shoulder, his eyes baring into me. "Pain is pain, Ed. It's the same to us all. And nobody should have to feel it."

I shook my head in disbelief and looked down. "Do you expect me to just spill my guts out? Will everything be alright then?"

He chuckled and let go of my shoulder, returning to his desk. "No. It'll take time."

Time indeed.

It took weeks before I even told Mustang anything. First, it was about Alphonse. Then, I opened up about my mother and how numb I was back then. One by one, day by day, I slowly worked my way to tell him how dirty I was. Once I told him, he retorted by telling me that I wasn't dirty. That I was just a victim who couldn't do anything to stop the man. What had happened to me was not my fault and it shouldn't happen to anyone.

"Keep moving forward." He would say to me everyday after our sessions.

Moving forward, huh? I kind of like the sound of that.

The stinging stayed even after I was released from the mental ward. Silence hung in the air as I sat in the back seat of Mason's car. Alphonse sat next to me and smiled slightly, trying to break the silence.

"It's nice to see you again, Brother. How are you feeling?"

I shrugged and smiled back at him. "Better now."

"You're not going to hurt yourself again, are you?" His blue-hazel eyes sparkled and clearly showed signs that he would cry at any moment.

Had I really hurt him that much by doing all that? If I did, I should be on my knees, begging for forgiveness. Telling him how sorry I was for being that way. For hurting him, my only family. We were all each other had.

"Listen…Al, you know, I'm sorry…"

He chuckled lightly and shrugged, smiling happily at me. "It's alright. Really. You're my big brother. I'll always forgive you."

My eyes stung as tears threatened to fall. Unbuckling my seat belt, I leaned over and hugged him as tight as I possibly could. Feeling his forgiving arms around me, I didn't feel alone like I did in the Ward. My body began to shake as I held the tears back. Alphonse rubbed my back, smiling into my shoulder.

"It's okay, Brother. It's alright now."

We stayed like this for the rest of the ride, Al whispering to me every once in a while to tell me I was safe now. When we finally pulled up to the house, he helped me out of the car and showed me around. It hadn't changed all that much save for the decorations and the colors of the walls. Our kitchen used to be a simple soft green and it was now a soft yellow. The pictures that hung on the walls showed only Winry, Den, Alphonse, Mason, and Granny Pinako. I raised my eyebrow at this and turned to Al.

"Where are my pictures?" I asked.

He frowned and looked them all over. "Granny and Winry didn't think you'd come out. So they started moving on."

The pictures contained moments I should have been a part of. Birthdays, holidays, events, festivals. They had nothing of me up on the walls and it made my heart sink, the stinging overtaking my body. "They…were ashamed of me, weren't they?"

After a moment of hesitation, he nodded. "Yeah…having someone you love so young end up drinking and being admitted into a mental institute had it's effects on them. Mason began saying you were adopted as a baby so that people would stop harassing me and mom…"

"They were saying bad things about mom?"

"Yeah…saying how bad of a mother she is to raise up someone like you."

This made my blood boil. My mother was perfect and she raised us perfectly. We knew the difference between good and bad. The only thing is, I had lost my way and just needed something to get rid of the stinging. My hand squeezed his arm tightly as I thought about it all.

Alphonse hissed and looked at me. "Brother, that hurts."

"Sorry…" I mumbled, letting go of him. "Just got a little angry…"

The rest of the day seemed like a rollercoaster ride. One moment, things went smoothly. Al and I sat around, watched television, and got caught up on what the other was doing. Currently, he had been talking to a pen pal. The two meet when his class got into world affairs. They were each assigned someone from a different country. His pen pal was a girl from Xing, just a year or two younger then him. He began telling me how much of a crush he had on her. I would chuckle and pat him on the shoulder, telling him how grown up he was now. By the time it was my turn, the rollercoaster went down as Winry and Granny Pinako came home. Their main reaction was shock. Mumbling their 'hello's and 'welcome back's, the two quickly retreated to the kitchen. I sighed and heaved up, walking to my room. Upon opening the door, I noticed many things. My 'keep out, come in' sign was missing as well as many other toys I remember were laying around. My pictures, drawings, anything that had personality were gone. The walls were painted yellow like the kitchen, the desk was white. My sheets had been changed as well as my closet door. None of my clothes were around and I felt like I was back at the ward.

How could they have done this to _me_? Not even the picture of my mother, brother, and I was in the room on my nightstand like how it usually was. Were they really that ashamed of me they had to do this? I felt every part of me become numb and I quickly began ripping the room apart. I tore the curtains, sliced up the sheets, and flipped over the desk. _**This was enough**_.

"Ed…? What are you doing?"

I turned and grabbed Al's arm, pulling him into his room. "We're leaving. Now."

"Leaving? But brother-"

"They don't want me here, Alphonse!" I screamed, turning to him with narrowed eyes. "And I'm not going to leave you!" Slowly, my eyes looked down and my hands shook. "You're all I got left…"

The room was silent for what seemed like hours before I finally heard a sigh. He placed a hand on my shoulder. "Let's stay here for a while. See if things could change."

I nodded and agreed to stay, going back to my room. It took a while to get it cleaned and fixed since I had no help. Over the course of the week, I tried to get used to life here now. If I wanted something to eat, I made it. Didn't really eat with everyone else since the tension only made me want another beer. I didn't drink since I wasn't allowed anywhere near Mason anymore. Or, rather, Mason wasn't allowed to go anywhere near me. Neither Granny or Winry spoke to me anymore. It was almost exactly like the Ward. Only one person I could trust and talk to. On most nights, I would crawl into Al's bed and fall asleep, scared to wake up back in my old room at the Ward. Hardly anyone talked to me in town. Not even the lady who gave us treats when we were younger. I was shunned from society…

Walking home at night became the scariest thing in the world. All I could think about was that man and the dirt…no. No, that won't happen. I wouldn't allow that to happen. I would die before I let that happen again.

My heart began racing as I walked by in alleyway filled with chuckles. It smelt horrible, like ash. But, I shook my head and continued a little ways before I heard someone come out and call over to me.

"Hey you!" I heard some teenager say.

I turned to them and crossed my arms over my chest, my eyes narrowing. "What do you want?" I hissed back.

The teen chuckled and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. "You're that Edward kid, right?"

"Who wants to know?"

He smirked and held out his hand. "Call me Kimblee."

With a moment of hesitation, I took his hand and shook it, nodding. Something wasn't right with this guy. "So, Kimblee. What do you want?" I asked, holding the bag of groceries I carried tighter.

He chuckled and put an arm around my shoulder, leading me into the alleyway. "We've heard about you. Drinking and going insane. Crazy stuff. Why'd you do it?"

His words stung. My blood ran cold and I felt my mouth become dry. "Because I'm in pain." I managed to choke out.

Another chuckle escaped his lips as he looked at his buddies, telling them to 'check me out'. The group came together and talked. A minute and a few laughs later, the four of them turned to me with smirks on their faces. I knew I needed to run but my legs were frozen stiff. It must have shown how scared I was on my face from their chuckles.

"Now, now, blondey. We aren't gonna hurt you. We want to help you." Kimblee said, holding out his pack of cigarettes. "Go on, take one. It'll help with the pain."

I stared at him for a moment before grabbing one, watching him nod in encouragement. He showed me how to put it in, light it, breathe it in, everything. Not long after, I was laying against the wall with cigarette in hand. The five of us talked and laughed, smoking the rest of Kimblee's pack. I coughed a few times and they would always pat me on the back, calling me a 'newbie'. When the pack was gone, I felt the need for more. The stinging had just started to go away. My hands began twitching and my eyes looked for another thing to smoke. One of them chuckled and pulled out a few bottles of beer, handing them out to everyone. I smiled and pulled it from his hands, popping the top off like it was nothing. It felt good to get a beer in me after so long. But, somehow, I felt horrible. Like I had just thrown away someone's trust. I drank my beer slowly, taking small sips as I watched Kimblee hand prescription bottles around.

I had only seen them a few times in my life. When my mother was sick, she took a few to help with her stomach or head. Whatever pain she was feeling, she took them. Me and Al were to young to take pills so we had special liquid medicine that tasted horrid. We never understood it. On the package, it said grape. So why did it taste like fish brains and thousand year old cold cheese?

He smiled as he slipped one into my hand. "Here. To help with the pain." His voice dripped down dangerously. I gulped and nodded, putting the prescription in my pocket. Once we all had one, we said our goodbyes and went our separate ways.

The rest of the walk home was short and, thankfully, everyone was asleep. Sneaking into the house, I tiptoed into the kitchen, took care of the groceries, crawled up the stairs, and slipped into my room. I placed the bottle on the desk and sighed, staring down at it. Mother did look better after she took her pain relievers. So…if I take mine…would my pain go away as well? Will this stinging stop? I shook my head and grabbed the bottle. Taking two pills out, I slipped back out and over to the bathroom for a glass of water. Without much hesitation, I popped them in and swallowed with my drink.

I stared into the bathroom mirror, looking myself over. Bags hung from under my eyes, my hair stuck to my face, matted and dirty. From the looks of things, I could have been kidnapped and tortured. I hated this. This face that was staring back at me. Who was that anyway? I remember when I was a child, the way I looked. My hair puffed out from being washed, my face glowing with happiness. My cheeks soft and plump. But, as I looked at what I've become, all I could do was feel the stinging tears rise up. Was this…really me? What had happened to that small, happy child?

The tears quickly raced down my cheeks and I ran out, slamming on Alphonse's door. He screamed slightly and opened the door not even a minute later, looking at me with sleepy, worried eyes.

"Brother? What's wrong?" He asked, taking my face in his hands.

I shook my head and allowed the tears to stream. "Alphonse…please help me."

* * *

"Edward? What're you doing here so late at night?"

Al placed a hand on my shoulder, looking up at Roy Mustang. "Sir, you helped my brother in the institute, right? He really needs your help now."

"**I swallowed ****_pills_**!" I screamed, grabbing onto his arms.

He simply stared back down at me and nodded, putting an arm around my shoulders as he lead my into his living room.

There, the three of us talked. Alphonse mainly since I started to become ill at every thought. He told Roy everything; our father leaving at a young age, our mother dying a few years ago, the beer…the rape. Everything that happened was now out. He nodded here and there, glancing at me a few times as if to picture me in such a state. I then told him about the cigarettes and the pills, shaking as I did. When story time was finally over, he patted my knee, and tried to give his most comforting smile.

"Are you ready, Ed? For you to recover, it'll take a lot. Lot of time, lot of patience." He said.

I sat there and stared at him. "Mustang, I looked in the mirror tonight and didn't even recognize myself. I'm ready for whatever it takes to get me better."

He was right.

Jumping back into a normal skin took a lot of time. More time then it did for me to crumble. Falling seemed easier then getting back up. 'Only those that want to stand up will be able to' Mustang would say to me. There were times that I wanted to quit. To say fuck this and go back into the alleyway. But, I realized, it wouldn't do me any good. It would hurt those around me, those I love. It'd hurt Alphonse, my only family left. We both stayed at Roy's house while I received my treatment. Every morning, we would all go take a walk around his yard, walk into town, and go back. He would point things out to me that I never noticed before. Like the dew on the grass, the purple shade the sky gave out. Beautiful things that I missed due to everything. The two would leave me to walk alone after lunch, trusting me to do the right thing. Kimblee walked up to me the first day and offered me pills, a pack of cigarettes, and a beer. Right away, I turned him down and walked off. I never saw him again after that.

Recovery took two years and by the time I was done, I was turning fourteen. We all sat together, me, Al, Roy, Mason, Winry, and Granny Pinako. Eating cake, passing around gifts, and laughing. Actually laughing.

There was no stinging anymore. Instead, when I thought about mom, I thought happy thoughts. Her smile, her laugh. I'd always miss them.

Mustang handed me a small box and smiled. It was covered in red wrapping paper, my name written on black sharpie in the corner. I raised an eyebrow and glanced at him, only to see him nodding. With a smile, I opened it.

A hand mirror. My mother's hand mirror. With a shaky hand, I picked it up and looked myself over. My skin seemed perfect, my cheeks slightly chubby. My hair puffed out from being clean and my eyes sparkled back at me.

I knew this person.

This was _me_.

Roy placed a hand on my shoulder and smiled at me through the mirror. "This is my gift to you. Welcome back, Ed. Happy birthday."

The things that had happened to me shouldn't have. And they shouldn't happen to anyone else. But, the sad truth is that it does happen. When it does, the only thing we can do is keep moving forward. We all have a strong pair of legs. The question is, will you choose to use them?

* * *

**A/N: This fic helped me a lot. Writing it out, figuring out the cons instead of the pros on everything. In a way, it had saved me. All I can hope for is that it saves someone else, too. But, reading it over now, more then likely, it'll just make someone depressed. Anyway, yeah. Please don't hate me to much. - ADAM**


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